


Alnifenen

by EmilyDragonette



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Character created to be an F U to Solas, Heartbreaker, Inquisitor's sibling, Mad Wolf Lady of the Free Marches, Magic, Minor Cassandra Pentaghast/Inquisitor, Mwahaha, Opposite siblings, Twins, Wolf-girl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-10-06 05:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10327265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyDragonette/pseuds/EmilyDragonette
Summary: No one understood her.As cringeworthingly cliche as it was to admit it, she was a being unto herself. A bachelorette with a pure heart and a furry wolf companion with the sarcasm and humor she couldn't see in herself.Vallas idolized him greatly, and the longing wish to meet with that blue warrior stemmed from the mysterious intrigue that surrounded such a being. To have him as a friend was just one of the few goals she had planned for the world outside her own.A boon granted from the claws of an unknown monster was not one of them.





	1. The Mad Wolf Lady

**Author's Note:**

> I recently played through Dragon Age for nostalgia and I made the 'mistake' of doing another Solas romance line... Yep... I died on the inside. 
> 
> So I wondered, "What if there was a character who was basically the female version of Solas, and HE was the one who fell head over heels and got rejected?"
> 
> I'm having fun with this. Let me be evil mwahahah. :)
> 
> Yes she gets "Magic thats not technically magic."

Beauty in the modest things.

A small cup of warm broth pressed between my fingers, a warm mass of furry wolf lying by my side soaking the grass with drool, and the greatest view in Thedas all to myself. I sighed, releasing all of my tension and letting me fully commit to relaxation. I leaned back against my shack, smiling as the old wood pressed into my back.   
Nothing compared to the salty sea air that slipped over your skin and into your lungs, making your breathing so much cleaner and easier than in any city. I leaned against my weathered shack as it took, yet another, beating from the gust.

“Shhh old girl.” I mumbled quietly to the saltwater-ridden driftwood. “Just a gale.” I didn't know why I always worried so… That shack had survived through far worse sea-tantrums. My wolf snorted, and raised his head to give me a sleepy gaze.

'Everything alright?' It seemed to say. 

“Of course it is Vun.” I answered as my shack groaned back into position. “Of course it is…”   
While everything here was fine and dandy, I found that there was a small part of my heart that felt sore. I looked down at Vun with a sad gaze.

'Your brother will return.' It said.   
“I know that. Don’t say stupid things.” I muttered. 

“Vallas!”

I peered around my shack and found an old elven woman huffing as she leaned on her staff. It was expected since I lived at the top of a rather steep hill, but surely the clan wouldn't send someone of her age here to get me? The Keeper was already old, so she didn't need to travel and strain herself.

“Andaran atish’an.” I greeted, bowing my head. “How have you been Deshanna?”  
She coughed. “Keeper. To you, I am Keeper.”  
“No.” I shook my head. “Keeper is a title of respect. I do not respect anything other than the fact you traveled up here alone. Besides, I am not in your clan.”  
Deshanna sighed and leaned against my shack. She flinched as it groaned angrily, upset that someone else was leaning on it. “How have you been faring Vallas?”

“Decent.” I answered shortly. “What of my brother?”  
“That is what I wanted to talk to you about.” Deshanna said. I rose up on careful feet and ran my hand across my shack, shushing it as another gust of wind hit.   
“What did you do with my brother?” I asked through my teeth. I surely hoped they did not hate him like they did me. 

“Sathrian is fine, but…” She paused.   
“But what?” I prodded. Vun sat up and yawned, suddenly going on alert. Deshanna was unnerved as he stared at her with his icy eyes. 

“We sent him to spy on a meeting between the mages and the templars. They have been in… tense condition as of late, and we wanted to make sure that whatever agreement they reached was favorable to our clan.” Deshanna said. “Now, he has become the Herald of a human god he does not recognize, and a pawn to an ‘Inquisition.’ I ask that you would make sure he is alright.”

“What’s in it for me?” I asked. I worried for my brother, yet, but if the humans had risen him up to something like a prophet… There was more of a chance my being there would get him killed than if I didn't go. The way I figured, those humans wanted him there because they believed the Maker sent him.

“We will let you rejoin the clan.” Deshanna said, desperation leaking into her voice. Sathrian had found his place among him and was quite loved by all of them. I, on the other hand, chose a much different path than my twin. We may have looked eerily similar, but our personalities were two sides of a coin. 

I shook my head. “I do not want to join your clan, Deshanna.” I walked into my shack and quietly took a mass of cloth out from underneath my cot. I unwrapped the cloth and unveiled a brilliantly crafted, solid black bow. It was made by my hands from a strange driftwood that seemed to hum. I glanced around at the various wood carving that lined my one-roomed hovel, each of the figures presenting a purpose. Protection and peace of mind, mostly.

Each one tirelessly carved. I could name which carving gave me which scars. 

“All I want is some proper food.” I stated as I picked up the stringless bow. It fluttered to life in my hands as I strung the tough spider-silk onto either ends. I slipped it over my head and strapped my quiver to the back of my belt.   
“That can be arranged.” She sighed, relieved.   
“Better be.” I muttered. “I’m risking my ass for you people again.”  
Deshanna sighed. “Vallas I know you don't like us because of that accident, but—”  
“That accident…” I swung around and sharped my gaze and tone to the point of slicing the points off her ears. “…Nearly killed my brother!” I lifted a pack over my shoulder—the twin dragon carvings clicking together on their string—and walked out toward the path Deshanna had come from.   
“I’ve needed an excuse to leave.” I turned around and frowned.

Maker, I hated that woman.

I sighed softly, the memory of blood staining my hands and my dying brother in my lap. My screams and pleading for the clan-mates to help went unanswered as they simply watched. Ever since that moment… I hated those people. Deshanna would have left him suffer because of a foolish mistake.   
I glanced down at Vun as I walked. The mass of night-colored fur waved and stirred in the wind, displaying a white chest and matching socks around his paws. His icy eyes glanced up at me with spots of humor dancing at their center.

'You really hate her, don’t you?'

“You bet I do.” I muttered angrily. “I told you what she did. The entire Lavellan Clan left him to die.”  
'They did heal him.'  
“Because someone else broke the rules!” I shouted at the wolf. “Who’s side are you on?”

'Mine.' He yawned. 

I sighed. “Figured. So much for this pack.”

'You know you love me.'

“I guess.” I mumbled. “You’re gonna be a pain in the ass once you realize that we’ve got to travel across the Waking Sea to find Sathrian.”

His head fell. 'I hate water.'

I laughed softly, his low gaze reminding me of everything we’d been through. I found the poor soul on a rainy day a week after I exiled myself from Clan Lavellan. The whole of the Free Marches were blanketed in a thick white fog. I’d managed to find my way out here and build a sad-looking lean-to that gave birth to my current shack.   
I sang often—still caught myself to this day—to calm my nerves, and that voice was what had attracted a little wolf cub. 

He was the runt of his family, and he started to whimper. Rain soon began to fall in sheets, and the scrawny pup looked like he would either drown or freeze to death. I hadn't known what happened to his family, but I picked up the weak thing and brought it under my lean-to. He laid next to me while I slept, and we established a mutual friendship based on if I brought him the correct amount of food or not. 

Now, though, it was almost like he could speak through my mind. I knew my wolf, and he knew me. I never knew quite why he stuck around all the time, or why he was so friendly to me.   
Reminiscing?   
I’d visited towns—leaving Vun in the forest beforehand—and found that they called me the mad wolf lady. I supposed that was warranted, given that I acted like my wolf spoke to me. When you lived alone for year after year, just about anything that seemed like it could speak to save what little sanity you still had. 

Damn them all if they thought I was mad. They didn't know anything.

I shivered, despite there being no cold, and scratched at my right jawbone. That awful line was still there. My fingers absentmindedly traced it up my cheek, where it simply stopped. 

'Do not let them get to you.'

I sighed. “I know Vun.”

'You touch the line and it reminds you. Don’t touch it.' His ice seemed to melt briefly, bathing his eyes in a touch of cyan.

“It’s not like I can help it!” I growled. 

'Back to normal.' Finally. Vun skipped ahead, paw-prints leaving me a path. 

We both hated that mark. It was supposed to be my Vallaslin, but…. Now that long, ugly black line that traced my jaw and ran across my cheek was all that remained of an interrupted ritual.  
Perhaps that was why they hated me so. 

I did cry, after all. It only took a few minutes for me to tell her to stop, and that I didn't want them.   
I found my fingers gently tracing the line, wondering if there was a way to remove it completely. I knew that when Deshanna looked at me she saw failure, and wondered how I could be related to my brother. 

We were opposites, as I had already explained to her. She wouldn't hear it.   
I shrugged the dark thoughts from my mind and continued on my path. With luck, we would be off this Maker-forsaken rock by sun-down. 

***

As a woodcarver, I tended to find the beauty in all manner of things.   
I always saw what something could be, and how a few tweaks could give it a realistic or cartoonish impression depending on the lines or stroke-paths taken. The simplicity in a few straight grains grown by a constantly growing tree never ceased to amaze, nor did the odd looking driftwood ever fail to impress.

I could not, however, find the beauty in snow. 

We rarely got snow in the Free Marches, but the South had the sticky white powder in droves. It slowed my movements to a crawl, and forced me to turn to my thin cloak for a single layer of protection. Thankfully, the skies here were clear of storms. The cold monster seemed to sap energy as I finally passed over the final rise and looked down over the village they called Haven.   
It was mainly a bunch of cabins that surrounded the tall stone building in the middle. They were all packed tightly together so that they could live within a stone wall that seemed like it would do little against an attack. Torches were being lit, meaning that the darkening sky above me wasn't a trick of the eyes.

A loud, angry crackle resonated through the air, sending chills down my spine and taking my eyes to the sky. My lips parted in silent wonder as a massive green spiral swirled in the grey sky, angrily spitting sickly colored shots of lighting that never reached toward the ground. Other than the occasional spit, it seemed rather calm. 

So that was what they called the ‘Breach.’

'Scary.' Vun pressed into my leg and gave a small whimper. 

“Crybaby.” I muttered, playfully shoving Vun. He slapped the back of my thigh with his tail before speeding down the remainder of the trail. I rubbed my stinging skin.  
“Don’t go far!” I called, worry hindering my melodic voice. “Vun, Renan!”

Vun sat back on his tail and raised his nose to the sky. He let out a low, baritone how that resonated through the area, and I knew that Sathrian would have heard it. I stopped beside my wolf at the very edge of the village.

“Perhaps you should wait out here?” I asked, wondering if it was right. Vun wasn't accustomed to these temperatures. He gave me a disapproving glare, which then softened into a pair of sweet puppy-dog eyes. He whimpered softly, pitifully. 

“Don’t give me that.” I said, rolling my eyes. “Wait out here for just a little bit. I will come back out for you.”  
Vun snorted—if a wolf could do such a thing—and trotted over to a small grove of evergreens. He laid at their base and watched as I walked toward the tents that lined the outside of Haven.   
“Hello there!” A friendly voice called out. I blinked slowly as a tall, armored human approached me. He seemed a little preoccupied as he looked over his shoulder, making his blond hair swish and swirl into snow-covered curls. 

“Hello.” I said a little shyly. “I’m Vallas.”   
“Ah, I’m Commander Cullen.” He nodded in greeting. “You must be the Herald’s sister.”  
“What gave it away?” I asked jokingly.  
“The hair.” He answered. I laughed, covering my mouth to staunch the flow of giggles. While this wasn't the first time I’d ever met a human, I was rather intrigued that he could see my ears and yet did not stare at them. He was cut from a different cloth than any other solider I’d met. I brushed my mass of hair back behind my ear, letting my fingers drag through the darkly colored waves.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, you must be wanting to see your brother. I can take you to him.”  
“Oh that’s alright.” I said quickly. “You’re the Commander, as you said. You’re a very busy man, so I’m sure I can find my—”  
“Vallas!” My brother screeched. I was unprepared as a body slammed into me, knocking me to the ground and enveloping me in a tight hug. I looked up to find a red-faced Commander trying to find his words for such an… interesting reunion. 

My brother and I were very different. 

“Sath, get off!” I shouted, shoving my brother off and quickly rising to my feet. Vun was out in a second, jumping onto Sathrian and licking his face. I slapped a quick hand across Cullen’s chest to keep him from drawing his sword.

“Vun, Atisha.” I commanded. Vun stopped his frenzy and plopped into the snow next to Sathrian, panting excitably. I looked up at the baffled Commander and smiled.  
“His name is Vun, and he’s with me.”

“It’s been a while, hasn't it!” Sathrian said, running his hands through Vun’s fur. Vun ran a slobbery tongue all down the side of my brother’s face.   
“Oh right!” Sathrian stood up and wiped away the slobber. “Come, Vallas, have you met Cullen?”  
“I have.” I answered.  
“Then it’s time to meet everyone else!” Sathrian said, taking my hand and dragging me toward the gate. 

“Commander Cullen! Watch over Vun!” I called. I didn't see the poor man’s face as the gate closed in my own. Sathrian dragged me up another set of stairs and into the middle of Haven. There was a large campfire surrounded by tents and beaten paths. I stopped, finally slipping my hand out from his. Snow began to fall as my brother suddenly softened his gaze and dulled his excitement.

“I guess that I fulfilled Deshanna’s wish.” I said, her name bringing a series of creases to his brow. “You are well and unharmed after all.”  
“She is in good health?” He asked. I shrugged, to which he sighed. “I have forgiven her, why can’t you?”

“I just can’t.” I stated. “And that you forgave her so quickly… That you went back to being her little First.”   
Sathrian put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Sometimes things happen, little sis. We must move past them and continue on the paths the Maker has chosen for us.”  
I snorted. “She still doesn't know you believe in the Maker. I believe she thought these people were converting you.”

“That’s Deshanna.” He laughed. “You didn't say ‘their Maker,’ did you?”  
“Maybe I suspect.” I said, pursing my lips. “So what? These last ten years have been quite the hell, so if anything can bring me through it…”

He laughed. “Do they still call you wolf lady?”  
I smiled. “Alnifenen is what they call me now. Other than Deshanna, of course.”  
“That’s a mercy. They called you crazy to your face.” Sathrian scoffed. “Dances with wolves. pfft.”

“You’d be surprised how accurate that can be.” I admitted. "They claim I am not in my right mind."  
“Oh no, don't tell me.” Sathrian pressed his palm to his forehead. “Don’t tell me that you drank another bottle of lyrium to spite someone and ended up naked and hanging upside-down from a tree. Please don't tell me there were wolves this time.”  
“Some things shouldn't be said out loud.” I said, blush running across my cheeks. “And it seemed like a good idea at the time.”  
“Lyrium as a non-mage is never a good idea.” Sathrian muttered. “I’m introducing you to Solas first, since you might want to get that one out of the way.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.   
Sathrian scowled. “Not the biggest fan of Dalish elves, that one.”  
“Casual reminder that I do not favor them either.” I said as he led the way. Sathrian gave me a playful scowl. I could be like this all day and his positivity would never run out. He would make a good ‘Herald’ if he hadn't already.

“Then maybe you can both be crotchety off wherever Dalish haters go.” Sathrian teased.   
“Surely he isn't that bad.”  
“Oh you have no idea.”

Sathrian led me up a slope and knocked on the door of a cabin. He waited impatiently for a few moments before an old elf open the door. His stormy grey eyes immediately intensified upon seeing Sathrian, as if he didn't like my brother. A pale bald head and pointy ears gleamed in the torchlight, and he wore traveling clothes similar to mine.   
“Solas.” Sathrian greeted, pushing me forward. “This is my sister, Vallas.”

“I can introduce myself.” I snapped lightly, making Sathrian smile. I turned to Solas and bowed my head, “Andaran atish’an.”  
“You are the Herald’s sister?” Solas asked, his eyes looking over my face and then stopping on that stray line. Someone called Sathrian away, leaving me to fend for myself. 

“I am.” I said. “Though my brother already said it, I am Vallas.” I grimaced at how awkward I was. I supposed such things came with being alone for so long.   
“Vallas.” Solas said, testing the name. They way he said the syllables spoke of a deeper understanding of its origins. He must have known elvish. 

“My brother says you hate Dalish, so you are probably not from a clan, yet I know no city elf who can speak elvish with such clarity.” I tilted my head. “Perhaps you are a wanderer, such as myself?”   
Solas looked surprised. “I am.”

“Why don’t you like the Dalish?” I inquired carefully. “If you don’t mind my asking.”  
“They are children acting out of stories misheard and repeated wrongly for a thousand years.” He answered. I couldn't help but feel a little slighted, despite having not been apart of a clan for quite some time.   
“And you know the truth?” I said, my voice a challenge that he took. 

Solas tiredly leaned his shoulder into the door-frame, as if he had already had this discussion. “While they pass on stories, mangling details, I walk the Fade. I have seen things they have not.” There was a pride stemming in his voice that bloomed with a depth of knowledge that even Deshanna would have marveled at. I was impressed, and he hadn't even told me anything I didn't already know.   
Something told me he had a bad run-in with Dalish before. 

“Ir abelas, hahren.” I apologized. “If a Clan somewhere has done you a disservice and tainted your view of the Dalish, I would see that made right for my brother’s sake.”  
Solas looked taken aback at my words as I continued. “What course could you set for them that is better than what they know now?”  
He regarded me with a thoughtful gaze. “You are right, of course. The fault is mine.”

Small victories. I won a conversation with a know-it-all. “It is alright. Not every Dalish agrees to the ways the Keepers lay out.”  
“You speak from experience?” He inquired.  
“Yes.” I answered softly, turning and looked over toward a building with a tavern sign. Sathrian was engaged in an exciting conversation with a warrior woman that seemed barely able to keep from slapping him, yet she held an amused grin. “My former Clan would have seen Sathrian dead, had I and another not intervened. I left them because of it, but he stayed. I know all too well the wrongs of the Dalish, yet I do not continuously blame them.” I paused. “Oh wait, yes I do.”

Solas chuckled. “Would you mind telling me what happened?”

I shuddered, the memory cold in my mind. “A dragon showed up on our lands, threatening Sathrian and I’s clan. We armored up and went after it, against the Keeper’s wishes.” Fire flashed in my eyes. “We killed it, but Sathrian was injured. I managed to drag him back, but he was on the brink of death. Rather than heal him immediately, Deshanna refused because we ‘deliberately disobeyed her’.” I paused. “It wasn't until the Second, Emma, disobeyed her and healed him that Deshanna finally relented. He would have died, if not for her. That entire night I debated if staying with the Clan was the right thing, and it the decision tore me apart.”

Sathrian put his hands over his mouth in shock as the warrior woman said something to him. I continued as I watched the two, “I was supposed to get my Vallaslin the next day. A few minutes in, and I was crying because I knew what I wanted. I had finally reached my answer. To this day, not a single piece of me regrets leaving.” I ran a finger over my scar. “I regret not doing it sooner.” I looked back at Solas and smiled. “Forgive me, that was hardly appropriate to tell a stranger.”

“You seemed like you needed to talk.” Solas said.   
“Perhaps.” I said quietly. A loud howl echoed through the town, filling my ears with the sound of Vun’s complaining. I snorted.

“Quit fretting about, you big baby.” I muttered softly before turning back to Solas. “Do not fear, that was only Vun. He is rather… dramatic.”  
Solas’ eyes widened. “Vun is a wolf?”

“Yes!” I said, eager that someone had finally called him by his name. “Trained, though don't let that fool you. Training only works if he’s listening on a full stomach.”

“Trained?” Solas asked disapprovingly. “Like a dog?”  
“Goodness no!” I said, putting a hand over my chest to still my heart. “He responds to elvish commands, but there is no way I could keep him like a dog! He’s a wolf, Solas! He comes and goes as he pleases.”  
“Oh.” Was all Solas said. 

“Vallas!” Sathrian called. I sighed, nodding to Solas.  
“A pleasure to meet you, and to bash Dalish elves with someone who understands.” I joked. “I hope that we will speak again.”  
“I do as well.” Solas said. “Perhaps on more… educational topics? I am eager to speak with a fellow wanderer.”   
“I would like that.” I admitted. “Though, as a non-mage, you will probably have to dumb it down for me.”  
“Not a problem.” Solas waved as I walked over to Sathrian. I couldn't help but smile and lift my shoulders a little higher. It had been nice to talk about that, even if I had laid my problems out on a poor stranger. 

“Vallas, meet Cassandra.” Sathrian introduced. I took a once-over of the lady and decided that she was the kind that didn't take ‘no’ from anyone. The woman, though she was in simple clothes, held an intimidating presence that overshadowed both mine and Sathrian’s. I wondered if the uncomfortable way she held her arms across her chest was due to a lack of armor—that was something Sathrian could relate with.

Her mahogany hair stirred in its braided crown as her dark eyes searched mine for any sign that I might cause my brother harm.  
“Have no fear Cassandra.” I said respectfully. “His Clan sent me to watch over, not to hurt him. It is good to meet you.”  
“And you as well.” She said, a little more relaxed now. For a long moment the three of us stood their before another voice joined in. “Now that I compare you side-by-side, I can see that you two look-alike.”

“Don’t offend me so.” I mused.  
“Seeker, don’t go frightening off the family.” A low baritone voice said loudly. The smile that lit up Sathrian’s face was unlike anything that I’d ever seen while in the Clan.   
“Vallas, this is Varric.” Sathrian introduced. Varric was a dwarf that only came up to waist-level, with an unknown amount of chest-hair peeking out from beneath a dangerously low shirt. His dirty blonde hair was thrown back into a short ponytail, and he rubbed his stubble thoughtfully. 

“So this is the sister.” He said, eyes darting between the two of use.  
“You two are twins, right?” Varric asked. I nodded slowly as Sathrian called to another. He was forming a group of people here in the middle of Haven just for introductions?

“Dorian, this is my sister Vallas.” He said to a tall tanned man with slicked back black hair. A wiry mustache with two identical curls rested above his lip. He wore grey, though the color seemed to suit him just fine. His eyes looked between the two of us and his mouth opened to speak.

“If another person says we look alike, I’m going to puke.” I interrupting, making Varric laugh. Dorian smiled as Cassandra excused herself to go do, obviously, more important things.   
“Is this the sister, boss?” Another low voice joined in. I swung around and found a towering purple giant—I believe that they called them qunari—with two horns that swung out at right angles like a bull. 

“Vallas, this is the Iron Bull.” Sathrian introduced. “Other than Vivienne and Sera, who are in Val Royeaux, and Warden Blackwall, you’ve met everyone.  
“Pleased to meet you all.” I said, though my mind was a little shattered from all the new appearances and names. Being alone did cause so many problems when you tried to remember names and faces. I gently rubbed my temple. 

Now, though, I wasn't alone. I guess I would need to get used to it.


	2. Dog?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vallas starts her journey with the Inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is very fun to write! It used to be an old idea but now it's come to life!

The next few days were a mixture of fun, confusion, and learning.

In a place such as this you learned very quickly who trusted easy and who did not. Honestly, I was glad most of Sathrian’s advisors and traveling companions welcomed me in so easy, but a small part of me wished that they would have been a little harder. If they let me, a total stranger, in that easy, then did that mean they let anyone in? I didn't have to worry once their Spymaster, Leliana, called me in to ask a few questions and to actually extend a welcome.

My mind was still tightly wound and I was mentally exhausted from the hours of battering questions. Most of them were centered upon whether or not leaving my former Clan was my choice or not, and why I did so. She seemed to approval of my answer, but I could hardly tell under that practiced gaze.   
I had stopped next to Haven’s central campfire—more like a bonfire—and started listening as Varric recounted one of his tales. I did not listen as hard as I should, instead thinking about hunting with Vun. Sathrian had requested that, since I was the best hunter in my former Clan, that I go out and find some meat for both Vun and the people of Haven. I didn't quite know what stopped me in front of this fire and made me listen. Perhaps it was the cold?

“My story not exciting enough Wolfy?” Varric asked, though I could hear the teasing in his voice. As I listened to these people talk I found that I could slowly understand the gestures, tones and dips in pitches and the elements of conversation that I had almost completely forgotten about. I shook the complexity of speech patterns away and tried not to think too hard about it. 

“No, it was good.” I said quietly. It was a story about the Champion of Kirkwall and Varric’s adventure at his side. In truth, I had actually read quite a bit of his “Tale of the Champion” and I wondered about many of the characters. My questions did not pass the barring lips of shyness, however, leaving me to wonder. Sathrian wouldn't have had a single problem to ask, but I wasn't him.

“You look like you want to ask something.” Varric pointed out, his close-hitting observation bringing me out of my thoughts. “I won’t bite your head off like the Seeker. Go on, Wolfy.”

“What was the Champion like?” I inquired slowly, unsure if the question was a good one.   
Varric scratched his head. “He was definitely ruthless… Many thought he was a violent sociopath, but I knew him as a gentle-hearted soul beneath a set of cruel rumors. While I didn't agree with all of Killer’s choices, I do know that he had his family and friend’s well-beings at heart.”

“Interesting…” I trailed off. “What about his lover? The mage?”  
Varric sighed, the soft air carrying a dark note. “Poor Hawke couldn't let Blondie live after what he did… Killer did what Killer does. He never speaks of it.”

“What about his rival?” I interjected quickly, surprising Varric with the speed of my question. His blank look made me continue, “The blue-tattooed elf with the broody attitude. He and the Champion hated each other.”  
“You bet they did!” Varric laughed wholeheartedly, the earlier sadness lost. “I can’t recall how many times Rivani or I had to break them up. Most of the time it was over stupid things, but there was that one time Broody and Hawke got into it really bad.” Varric gave me a smile. “Want to hear the story?”  
“Of course.” I answered, glancing over at the gate. Vun was impatiently waiting outside, leaning against his tree. He would become dangerous soon, if he wasn't fed. 

“Bright, shiny day in beautiful Kirkwall.” Varric said, setting the scene. “Hawke, Broody, Blondie and myself were trying to get the last bit of money to go on our expedition.”  
“You mean struggling?” I teased.  
“Yeah yeah, well, Hawke tries to get everyone to brainstorm ways the come up with the sovereigns and Blondie jokingly suggests we sell Broody back to the slavers. They get into it, and Hawke—in his usual, gruff manner—tries to break them up. Eventually he and Broody start throwing fists, and Blondie and I were left to pull them apart.”  
“Why did they start fighting?” I inquired.  
“Stupid stuff… Insults and the like.” Varric smiled as he fiddled with his glove. “Broody knew what buttons to push on Killer. Needless to say, he never really traveled with Broody again without someone he trusted there to talk him down.”

“What is Broody like?” I asked, laughing as the odd name left my lips.  
“Exactly like his nickname.” Varric chuckled. “His real name is Fenris. He was an escaped slave who made it to Kirkwall and sought help from Hawke. Now, though, I couldn't tell you where he is.”  
“Escaped slave?” I asked, leaning forward a bit. Fenris had always been my favorite character since I always imagined him as someone I could befriend. I never knew enough about him in the book, no matter how many times I read it.  
“He never told me the story.” Varric shrugged. “Never trusted Hawke enough, I guess. The feeling was mutual.” Varric gave me a teasing look. “Why do you want to know so much about Broody?”  
“I just find him rather interesting.” I admitted. “Imagine my surprise when I learned that he is an actual person. I’ve always wanted to meet him.”

Vun howled loudly, his complaining making my eyes roll. “Tell me more later?” I asked.   
“I’ll see what I can do.” Varric said, waving me off. “Go tend to your wolf, Wolfy.”

I grabbed my bow from its seat beside me and jogged quickly over to the gate. As I passed through an unfamiliar man waved me to the side.

“Greetings, Heraldess.” The man said. I couldn't help but scoff at the new name that many villagers, and Inquisition members, had given me. I was the Herald of Andraste’s sister, so I was their ‘Heraldess’ who saved the Herald’s life. The name itself gave me an odd chill, but it did not stop me from refusing that name. Not only did I not want it, I didn't deserve such a thing.  
Perhaps that was how Sathrian felt at one time. Now, just a few days from closing the spinning monstrosity above our head, he had come into his own in a way that would have made Deshanna keel over. I smiled, fondly recalling how energized my brother had seemed. 

It was a nice change, despite the extra nagging. 

“Hello. I don’t believe I’ve met you.” I said, bowing my head.   
“I’m Harriet, the Inquisition’s blacksmith.” He said. “The Herald told me to give you a set of armor and one for a… dog?” He finished ‘dog’ with a question mark as he looked over at Vun.   
“Wolf.” I answered patiently. Many people had asked that same question, and I had to repeat myself time and time again. At this point it would be easier if everyone though he was a dog, but my poor friend still had some dignity left.   
“Right, sorry.” Harriet cleared his throat. “The Herald would have me make armor for the wolf too, and I’m left to wonder how big he is. Perhaps you could call him over and hold him while I take measurements?”   
“Uhhh.” Vun scratched at the ground and stretched, readying himself for the hunt. I looked back at the blacksmith. “Let me feed him first, and then when we get back I will help you measure him.”  
“That’s greatly appreciated.” Harriet said, bowing his head and heading back to his forge. A smile grew on my face as I paused by Vun—a few steps away from him—and nodded toward the woods. The silent command freed him of his ‘domestication’, and he sped off into the trees, howling a dark tone as he did. 

I walked out after, letting the wind untangle my hair from its braid and turn me back into the mad wolf-lady.   
“Beautiful.” I whispered softly as I raised my bow and notched an arrow. The gentle slopes of the arrowhead led to a dangerous tip, showing off the personality of the crafter. She was gentle, but as dangerous as the tip could be, in the right situation.   
I was dangerous in the right situation. To turn me loose with this bow meant something—or someone—would die.   
No wonder they called me insane. 

***

“Damn sis. Save any for the other wildlife?”  
I sighed, squeezing the last of the melted snow from my hair. My toes twitched in their patched socks as the fire melted away the last of the cold. “You wanted me to bring you back food for the village, and I did.”  
“I just… I forgot how good you were at hunting.” Sathrian admitted, watching the full cart go by. It had only taken me a solid hour to bring down five rams and drag them back to an awaiting village. With every kill I brought back, I could see the amazement and surprise in their eyes. 

Just another thing to add to the ‘Heraldess’ pile. One day it would explode into flame. 

“Vallas!” Called a newly familiar voice. My eyes met with the bald elf’s and I could feel a wide smile.   
“Yes, that is my name.” I joked, letting my mind wander as I held my hands out toward the fire. I could still see and smell the ink that splattered my arms and stained my fingers. It was as if I had dipped both hands in the black, sharp smelling liquid and had tried to write without a utensil. 

It wasn't hard to recall the day Deshanna gave me that name. It was one of my fondest memories.   
Warmth spread through my chest as her soft, coaching words guided my fingers to write my first words. While I hadn't been good at it for a while, I strived to be better than my classmates who believed the simple tool to be pointless. Somewhere in my small mind I knew that words were powerful, and the desire to read and write became the only tie I had to my former Keeper. I was a fast learner with reading, but, after a long time, I finally mastered writing as well.   
My name was for my penmanship and expert manipulation of the written word. Now, I couldn't remember what the others had called me before Vallas. Perhaps it was nothing. 

“Vallas?”

I snapped out of my memory and found myself still staring at Solas. Embarrassment shinned on my face and in my eyes as I shook my head.   
“Sorry. Lost in thought, I guess.” I muttered, looking into the flames. I missed those simple days greatly.  
“I was wondering if you had time to talk.” Solas said.   
“About?” I asked, slipping my boots back on. My feet were finally dry. 

“Please just listen.” Solas stated. I rolled my eyes as I rose to my feet. Sathrian laid a gentle hand on my shoulder and gave it a pat. My smile had the same effect as he ran off in the direction of Varric.   
“What it is?” I inquired.  
“Well…” Solas trailed off. “It’s about the Herald.”  
“What about him?”  
Solas sighed frustratedly. “He won’t listen to me! I have been trying to give him advice with closing the Breach and he just refuses to heed my warnings or take anything I say seriously.”  
“Sounds like a problem that should be handled maturely between the two of you.” I said, pointing at my brother. “He may act like a selfish child, but deep down he does have morals. Family and friends first, everyone else second.” I looked back at Solas. “Appeal to those morals, Solas, and he will listen.”

“I… Thank you Vallas.” He said, giving me a grateful smile. “You are one of the less trying members of the Inquisition to talk to. Congratulations on finally joining.”  
I groaned. “Joining? That was being hexed into a cult.”   
“Leliana is definitely intimidating, but she is a reliable ally nonetheless.” Solas pointed out. “She and the Herald get along nicely, so I’ve heard.”  
“He mixes well with opposites.” I said. “For example, me.” I smiled at Solas. “Have you noticed how different we are?”

“Everyone has.” Solas chuckled. “Some say the only thing you two have in common is the hair.” I absentmindedly woven a finger into the wavy chocolate locks, which made him smile. There was something about that grin that was… different.   
“If that is all you needed, then I have to go hold down my wolf and get him sized for armor.” I said, shuddering as I spoke. “He’ll think I’m torturing him.”  
“I can help, if you like.” Solas suggested.  
“That would be welcome.” I admitted, waving for him to follow. We walked the path back outside of Haven and paused just inside the smith. 

I whistled, making Vun jump up and jog toward me. He stood at my feet and let a tongue loll out of his mouth. 

‘What is it?” He asked, looking between the blacksmith, Solas, and I.

“We’re going to get you some armor.” I said, my voice gentle and smooth. Vun seemed reassured as he plopped down in the middle of us and held his head high.

‘Make it black.’ His eyes said mischievously. 

“Could you make it black?” I asked as I laid a gentle hand in front of Vun’s jaw to stop him from nipping. “The armor?”  
“I can.” Harriet stated.  
“Why black?” Solas inquired, stroking Vun with a careful hand. Vun’s eyes watched him carefully, but more so than as he would have with a normal stranger.   
“He wanted—” I stopped myself and coughed. “He will blend in better should we travel. It will also match his coat.”

Solas nodded, seeming pleased with my answer. I sighed softly in relief, glad that I caught myself. It probably wouldn't have gone over well with them that I could speak with my wolf. Harriet freed us and Vun, which sent the wolf frolicking through the snow. He rolled through the sticky cold powder and looked back at Solas and I with a mischievous glint. 

“Do you like wolves?” I asked. Solas watched Vun with a rather intent gaze.  
“They are very intelligent creatures.” He commented.  
“Especially this one.” I said as Vun started to romp through the snow. “He understands my commands, even if they are in elvish.”  
“Really?” Solas asked. I briefly thought through my commands before finally settling on one primarily used for hunting. 

“Banal’ras.” I commanded, the words making Vun disappear. Solas moved his head back and forth, searching the snow drifts for any sign of the suddenly invisible wolf. I stifled my laughter as his massive paw prints appeared the snow right in front of Solas. 

“Where’d he—” Solas was silenced as Vun knocked him down and stared into the elf’s eyes. I felt surprised when the wolf did not immediately lick the older elf like he did with Sathrian and I—I’d heard Vun had done it to Cullen and even Cassandra in the two days we’d been here—and I found myself wondering why. Perhaps he sensed something I did not?

“You know… A lot of elvish.” Solas said as he sat up and caught his bearings. I offered him a hand, which he took and rose to his feet. “Where did you learn it?”  
“Sathrian snuck me some knowledge he waste supposed to.” I admitted. “Honestly we were very bad among the Clan’s children.”  
“Bad?” 

I snorted at the memories. “I once filled the former First’s, Emma’s, aravel with snakes. Sathrian helped me find them, so we both got in trouble. Then…” I clicked my tongue. “We got another kid trapped up in some vines after he tried to touch me. Sathrian almost killed him over it. Once we dared the other children to jump off of this one cliff into some freezing water. One didn't quite make it and broke his leg.” I sighed and rubbed my lower back. “We were beat bad for that one. Then there was…” I paused. 

“Sathrian and I were out running with two other kids our age and we got followed by a pack of feral wolves. The Clan’s former first, Emma, was with us and her magic was basically useless. One of the wolves bit my leg and dragged me off into some brush. If Sath hadn't discovered his magic when he did, I wouldn't be here. After that, he had no time to play anymore. Emma was bumped down to Second, and he was First.”

“He had to take on responsibilities.” Solas said in understanding.   
I shrugged. “He’s always had responsibilities as the older sibling. I’m supposedly one of them.”  
“Did you not have parents?” Solas asked. His eyes widened as he realized the question was out of line. “I’m sorry I—”  
“No, it is a decent question.” I said. “Did we? I suppose, but our mother died in childbirth and we never knew our father. He was with another Clan, I suppose. All the adults banded together to raise us, but none did it as good as we did.”

“You raised yourselves?” Solas asked.  
“I did, mostly.” I admitted. “Sathrian may have been the older brother, but I was the one who knew what we needed and how to keep him in line. I learned how to defend myself, and I taught him what I knew. I learned how to cook, and showed him a few things. Although,” I grimaced. “I have never been a good cook.”  
Solas laughed. “Maybe not, but you still have other enjoyable benefits.”  
“Enjoyable benefits?” I questioned. Solas’ ears turned bright red and the color leaked onto his pale cheeks. 

“The grace with which you move, and how you can send an arrow to its target with nothing more than the sound of plucked string.” Solas said, his blush getting brighter and redder. I surely hoped this wasn't that dreaded flirting that Sathrian had tried to explain. I was oblivious to it most of the time.  
“So you think I’m graceful?” I asked, summing up his words.   
Solas smiled. “I am declaring it.”

Whoa shit he was flirting with me! Even though I blushed, I found that I had nothing to return with. I did not return his feelings, but I didn't want to hurt his. He was one of the few people here I actually talked to.

“Thank you Solas.” I said, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Nice that someone appreciates grace, even in short supply.”  
“You’re welcome.” Solas said.  
“Now, I have to go pester Varric.” I said, walking toward the gate. “Thanks for the help with Vun!” I called back. He seemed a little sad to see me go, but there was something already on my mind and taking up most of my recent thought. 

Who was this mysterious Fenris and what role did he play in the Champion’s quest? Surely he was more than a rival, right? Rival was enough, of course, but what if there was something I hadn’t learned? I couldn't describe it but this Fenris felt so… interesting?   
I would learn about him, and maybe I could contact him. To have someone of his caliber as a friend would be….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Banal’ras- become shadow
> 
> I think that's it but let me know if I missed any!


	3. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vallas comes face-to-face with a monster.

”Did you or did you not slay a dragon?!”

I laughed wholehearted and braced my hands against the wall to keep from falling. I was sitting up on Haven’s outer wall with my legs dangling in the long drop beneath. The Iron Bull was beneath me, watching me with an interesting gaze. His horns seemed to accentuate the look, almost as if he had four eyes.  
He may not have looked like the type, but he was as calculating as the advisors. 

“We did.” I said. “Sathrian almost died, but we did.”

“So you and the Boss are Dalish dragon-slayers.” Iron Bull stated.

“That is right, Iron Bull.” I said. “Could I perhaps just call you Bull?”

“Yeah sure.” He leaned against the wall next to my feet. “What kind of dragon was it?”

I scoffed. “I don't know! I’m pretty sure it was a she since there were dragonlings around her, and she was a bright red color like her fire.”

“Wow.” Was all he said. “We’ll have to all get together and go hunting for another.”

“I don't now about that.” I said warily. “Sathrian got hurt last time.”

“I’ll be there to take the blow this time.” Bull said, his words oddly comforting. 

I sighed. “In that case, we’ll have to find a dragon.” Bull’s laughter echoed through the surrounding valley and put a smile on my face.   
One of the guards shifted behind me, and hissed a warning to another. Tension spread through the air as if it rode on wind, making me rise and follow their gazes. 

Smoke… Coming from the path leading out to Haven. 

I jumped off the wall out of nothing more than instinct and fell into a forward roll. My hand reached back, finding my bow and quiver right where they always were. I growled as I felt for arrows, and found only three heads. Bull growled angrily as he dashed back to his tent to find his axe.

I notched one nonetheless and sped quickly down the path. My eyes widened as I dashed around the corner.

A monster towered over a small carriage, his eyes level with the trees. A cruel, blank black gaze stared down at the carriage, which now looked like nothing more than a box filled with claw marks and a wheel missing. The red-tinted monster carried that wheel in one hand, and peeled away at the wood with the other.   
There on the inside I could see the terrified looks of a woman and a little boy. An armored man lay outside the carriage, blood pooling around him and a sword in his hand. He must have been their protector. The man’s head rolled to the side as he reached for his blade.

Is! He was still alive!

I loosed one of my arrows, the tip and shaft burying itself in one of the monster’s eyes. I quickly moved over toward the carriage while it was distracted and peeled away the last of the wood.   
“Run!” I commanded to the woman and her son. They needed no further instruction as they climbed out and ran toward Haven.   
I looped my hand under the man’s arm and tried to pull the solider up to his feet. He grimaced with pain. 

The creature roared. 

I loaded my bow again and took out its other eye. The monster staggered and fell to its knees, clutching at his eyes.   
I threw the bow over my shoulder and lifted the solider up. I tucked his arm around my shoulders and tried to support him as best I could. He was silent, but he grew paler with every hurried step away from the wreckage.

“Vena halani!” I shouted. Vun’s howl answered in turn as Haven came into view. Cullen rushed forward from his usual spot, shouting at some nearby soldiers. The injured man slipped away from my shoulder collapsed onto the snow, his breathing shallow and labored.

“Go get a healer!” I shouted. Cullen helped me to pry away his silvery armor and expose a bare chest riddled with claw marks. I looked up, my eyes meeting Solas’. The mage pushed me gently away and went about healing the man’s wounds. The solider’s eyes rested on his sword with a fiery gaze. I slid the blade through the snow and pushed it into his hands.   
“Thank you.” He whispered softly. I slipped his helmet off and rested his head on my lap in an attempt to give him comfort. His messy blonde hair spilled over my snow-stained pants like golden water. 

“If you hadn't gotten him here when you did…” Solas trailed off. “He needs to rest, but he will recover thanks to you.” Another solider came forward and helped Solas lift the man and carry him into Haven. I watched carefully as he left, suddenly wondering what would have happened had I not acted when I did.

“Perhaps the Heraldess title isn't completely wrong after all.” Cullen mused.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Cullen scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well you did save the Herald’s life. You also brought Haven food. Now you saved a soldier’s life as well as his charge.”

“There’s still a monster out there.” I stated as Sathrian ran out of the gates with Cassandra at his side. The warrior woman looked more in her element now since she was in a dark metal armor. A large white eye was painted across the chest, looking both heraldic and barbaric. 

“Well then I guess you’ll get to see how the Inquisition deals with monsters.” Sathrian joked, his words meaning that he heard mine. Cassandra nodded to Cullen, who then gave a smile.  
“You three go on ahead, I will follow with some soldiers.” Cullen stated. I nodded to my brother and started down the path, bow drawn and my last arrow notched. I cursed myself silently for not grabbing more. Vun’s labored pants followed my boots closely, almost as if he was afraid.

I, personally, was terrified. 

Once more the mangled crash site came into view, only this time there was no monster. Black, bitter smelling blood was all that remained of that monster. The horrific sight was splattered in the snow, its mere existence raising bile in my throat. Sathrian gagged behind me, letting me know I wasn't the only one.

“What the hell was that thing?” I asked loudly, using my voice to try and call the beast out of hiding. If it was allowed to roam freely, then more people would end up hurt or worse.   
“You’re the only one who saw it.” Sathrian stated. “You know what it looks like.”

I rubbed the back of my neck and tried to recall. “The creature was actually rather blurry, as I was more focused on saving the people.” Both Sathrian and Cassandra sighed frustratedly at the same time, making me smile. I looked down at Vun as he put his nose over the blood and took a deep whiff. I cringed as he rubbed his nose in the snow, trying to rid himself of the smell. 

“Track?” I asked toward Vun. He sneezed and gave me an unreadable gaze as he laid his nose in the snow. Vun moved around in hurried circles before stopping and staring off farther down the path. I walked next to his gaze and found a black spot on a nearby tree with the exact same smell.

“Get him.” Vun sped off, howling with the excitement of the hunt. I followed after, easily keeping within seeing distance of my wolf while Sathrian and Cassandra lagged behind.   
I was rather used to following Vun. It was as if I, myself, was a wolf and we were a two-member pack. Vun had never told me otherwise, so I believed it.   
A low growl resonated through the air, sending me into a crouch and raising Vun’s hair. A ridge formed down his dark back, symbolizing that the monster was scaring even him.   
I raised my final arrow and waited. 

And waited…

The woods grew silent except for the occasional, nerve-wracking collapse of a snow-buried branch. My pulse quickened, as did Vun’s breathing, as a loud thud came from behind. I turned quickly, finding the half-eaten carcass of a deer. It was rotten and the insides were completely torn off, spilling a greenish liquid out onto the snow. I gagged, and the hairs stood up on my neck. 

‘Behind you!’

I spun around to find claw marks raining down onto me from a blind monster. I narrowly dodged, earning a long cut across my bottom left jaw for my unwariness. Hot blood dripped down my neck and down into my shirt, showing that the cut was deep. I glared up at the monster, finding something out of the mind of a demented man. 

It stood eye-level with the surrounding trees—although they were rather short pine that could have been easily climbed—and seemed to have a warping, reddish lavender skin. Its eyes had arrow-heads in them, the splitting wood that protruded from the black holes showing that he had broke the arrows. Was it an intelligent creature?  
My feet led their own path, sidestepping away from the beast. and next to a tree. As an archer I couldn't get any closer to it, not without signing a suicide note. 

Vun challenged it, his growl sending worry piercing my veins like ice. He couldn't challenge that creature! There’s no way he would make it! He would die.   
A woman’s growl ripped through Vun’s as Cassandra collided with the beast, using her shield to throw the thing back. The creature barely relented, and rose back to its feet. Sathrian came from behind and sliced a neat cut into its flank, making the creature howl.

I drew my bow back, aiming for a clean shot to the forehead. If I had learned anything, it was that a headshot could and would kill everything. Everything living, anyway. My arrow loosed, burying itself with a satisfying thud into the beasts skull. It growled angrily, swinging back toward me. Once more I evaded its claws, but I did not expect for it to shriek. 

That shriek was a nails-on-a-chalkboard sound of death and misery. It’s high pitched tone reached my highly tuned ears with a force to make them bleed. They didn't, thankfully, but my ears rang. I couldn't hear anything as another claw swiped around, catching me unprepared. I gasped as a single talon stuck through my side—almost like those kabobs my former Clan used to make—and hoisted me off of the ground. I grasped at the claw as the creature lifted me to eye-level. 

It laughed. It was a low, sickening sound that rose every hair on my body and made my eyes widen in terror. Blood flowed form the corner of my mouth and ran down my neck, making me shiver.

“Good, but I will make you better.”

A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air like a knife. I didn't realize that my mouth was open and I was the one screaming as the other claw covered my left eye. It pricked the surface, sending a searing pain through the left side of my skull. The creature howled, its sick ritual interrupted. I slid off of its claw and back into the snow. Warmth pooled in my mouth as I watched the creature fall with my good eye. It closed, cutting me off from the fight as the comfort of sleep beckoned.


	4. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vallas finds out what happened to her.

Waking up was very slow.

My eyes opened in slow motion—though one opened much slower than the other—allowing a bright, almost painful light to flood into my pupils. The world arranged itself all at once, putting me back in the neat little shack the people in charge had gifted to me, even after insisting I needed no such thing. Although… It was rather empty, containing only the cot I laid on, a mirror, and a dresser. The poor shack had less character than the one I missed back home. 

My memories filtered slowly, easing me into the events of the previous day. That I felt no pain after all of those injuries was odd.  
Then again, I was riddled with oddness. That thing had done something to me, but I didn't know what. I moved my head, eliciting a gasp from someone I could not see. Certain areas of my body burned, as if the fire’s of the Maker’s hell had finally come to pay me for all the sins I’d committed. 

“Herald! She’s awake!”

Sathrian busted through the door, almost freeing it of its hinges. The metal squeaked, making my head thump in its skull. Everything felt heavy as Sathrian kneeled down next to the bed in my eyesight. His own eyes examined mine, almost causing my signature commentary to spill from my lips… but it didn't. I was simply too exhausted.   
I slowly sat up, Sathrian’s hands immediately going to my shoulders to help, another pair—Solas’—joined his. The door swung open once more, even though it was bent, and Cassandra, Dorian, and Bull crowded the doorway. Everyone acted as if I were a spooked animal, but I felt fine. Just sluggish. 

“How do you feel sis?” Sathrian inquired carefully, his eyes resting on mine—mostly the one that was supposed to be injured.   
“I feel fine.” I said slowly, pressing my feet into the cold floor. My legs threatened to buckle as I pressed my weight into them, and finally rose to my feet. My hand reached for the wound, finding only a puckered scar in the place of, what should have been, a bloody, scabby, stitched mess. “How long was I asleep?” I asked, my voice small.

“Four days.” Sathrian answered, passing me a small hand-mirror. I held it out and finally realized why my brother had stared so peculiarly at my eye. Where once there was a cinnamon color, surrounded by the bounciest chocolate curls in all of Thedas, now lay a disturbing bluish purple hue buried like glowing treasure in a muddy brown imitation. It appeared as if the foreign color was beginning to take over my entire eye, much like the heavy feeling that occupied me earlier. Sathrian sighed, “Your body healed itself immediately after we returned, but you’ve been asleep since then.” All at once, the mysterious burning feeling receded, leaving me empty, cold and hollow.

“Healed?” I raised an eyebrow, feeling the raw skin at my “wound”.  
“You don’t have magic.” Dorian interjected, his mustache quivering from the cold outside. “There is something there, however, but we haven't told anyone. Wouldn't want them thinking the ‘Heraldess’ is a demon, now would we?”  
“Demon?” I shuddered, resting a hand on the wall to steady myself. 

“As far as the people know,” Dorian continued, “You were injured while valiantly saving the lives of three innocents.”  
A heavy sigh brought on a stiff silence. “Whatever that thing did to you…” Cassandra paused. “It gave you a power of which we are uncertain.”  
I huffed. “The best minds in Thedas don’t even have a clue what plagues me.”  
“Now, now, sis.” Sathrian said, any and all annoyance anyone else might have had was nonexistent in his cheery voice. “We said we were uncertain, not that we didn't know.”

“Then what are your ideas?” I asked, “Did you even kill the blasted thing?”  
Cassandra shook her head. “It dissipated the moment you fell to the ground. The thing just…”  
“Vanished.” Sathrian finished.   
“We believe that…” Solas paused, unsure of himself. If he was unsure, then there was something to worry about. “…that it could have been a demon, but one of a nature that it undiscovered. Or, it could possible be an unexplained happening of the Breach, but that is unlikely…”  
“Dammit.” I said, my teeth clenched, “Stop beating around the bush! Tell me what the hell you think happened!” My fist pressed into the wall, which seemed to bend around my fingers. It was as if the very walls trembled at my anger. 

“Vallas.” Sathrian warned, noticing my growing irritation. “Calm down. Nothing can be done when you’re angry.” He looked back at the door and whistled, as if he were calling a dog.   
I gave him an angry glare. “Vun. Come.” My wolf burst through the open door, pushing Sathrian aside and leaping into me. He halted just before crashing into me, instead sitting on my cold feet and gently licking my hand. 

He knew.

‘Are you alright?’  
“I’m alright, my friend.” I said, stooping down and weaving my fingers in his thick black fur. A noticeable smile made it’s way on my tired face, and Solas seemed to take this as a cue to continue his long-winded explanation.  
“We are almost certain of the first option. Whatever demon harmed you did so deliberately, in locations that it needed in order to complete it’s objective.”  
“What was its objective?” I inquired, my voice small as realization dawned. 

“To possess you.”

“Solas!!” Sathrian cried angrily, suddenly shoving the older elf. I froze, this behavior more startling than my condition. “We never discussed that! It can’t be! Cassandra?!” He looked to the woman with a heartbreaking pleading in his glistening eyes.  
“I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked.

“It is a recent development.” Solas interjected, taking Sathrian’s attention off of the poor woman. “I checked her this morning and it seems as though another presence has taken up residence in her, but in a way that no normal demon does.”  
“What would the difference be?” I asked, seeking more information. “I am still myself, so surely you are mistaken.”  
Solas shook his head. “The demon did not become you, YOU became the demon.” Sathrian’s cry pierced my ears louder than any dragon’s squeal, louder than any cry I’d ever heard.  
“I need some air.” I stated, rising from Vun and walking past the stunned and horrified faces. Out of the open door I went, walking out into the snow in thin clothes and nothing on my feet. 

A demon? Me?

I paused in my step, casting a lingering glance back at my cabin. Solas stood in the doorway, watching me with a careful eye and nodding to a voice I could barely… wait…  
I could hear it. ‘Watch her.’   
Then… The demon had truly done something. I stared down at the worn, wet mud around my feet. Luckily, I stood on a drier spot. The cold was not bitter, but acted more as a blanket with holes in it. Slowly, scents beyond that of snow began to drift by, making me dizzy with their intensity. Some of these, I had never smelled before.  
I jumped as warm hands slid a blanket over my shoulders. 

“Someone’s jumpy.” He mused darkly, dropping down a pair of boots for me to slip on, and handing me a pair of stockings. 

A demon… How could I be?

I grunted as I slipped the fuzzy material over my feet. “Well you would be too if you’d just found out what I had.”  
Solas gave me a sad smile, “Yes, but I may have a solution to your problem.” He offered me his arm, “If you’ll follow me.”

I took his arm slowly, blocking out the new senses and letting him guide me out of Haven. I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders as we left the gate, and walked out toward the woods. A partially hidden path caught my eye. 

A demon…

Turns out, we would be following it. Fur graced my fingertips, startling me once more. Vun’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as he looked at me expectantly.   
‘What is it?’  
A breathy laugh escaped my lips. “Nothing, you big fur-ball.” Solas chuckled lightly at my banter with my wolf, making me smile. He didn't think I was mad.  
A shack appeared out from behind a snow drift, almost out of thin air. I smiled and took my arm from Solas, instead going into the shack myself than with him. On the inside it was warm and lowly lit, almost as if someone had meant to return. The low light came from candles scattered around the single room, their wax almost half melted. A desk stood valiantly in the middle of the room, bearing the least amount of clutter. Books rested in stacks in three corners, with the last being reserved for a bed made from wood and hide. The short bedposts were carved to look like deer, though horribly done, and by an amateur from the looks. I cringed, though a smile followed soon after as I stooped to examine them. 

My finger lightly grazed the roughly erected antlers. “Why am I here?” I inquired, my voice cold, despite the familiarity of the carving.   
“I know what will help you.” Solas stated, going over to the desk and picking up a piece of parchment. It held a beautiful pattern that looked much like Vallaslin, although this one held elvish words within it. I cursed my limited knowledge of the language, and wished I had Sathrian’s vocabulary. There were very few things I envied of the Dalish, but their knowledge, though small, was rather interesting, and far out of my reach. 

“Firstly, how did you know about this place?” My eyes darted around the cabin.   
Solas shrugged. “Found it while seeking herbs. It is uninhabited, and has made an excellent reading and research area and its quiet and solitude is… comforting.”  
“Secondly, what will help me?” I asked, taking the paper and following the winding curves with my wide eyes. 

Solas smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s a binding symbol woven into a tattoo. Made by the ancient elvhenan.”  
“For… binding demons?” I asked carefully. “Like…. Like me?”

Solas shook his head. “I did not tell the others, but I know what kind of demon has made you it’s new host.” I patiently waited as he grabbed a nearby piece of paper with a rough, though detailed, sketch of the phantom-demon that attacked me. “When Sathrian described the demon to me, I realized exactly who had taken you. In the old stories I’ve been told in the fade, an ancient magister used so much blood magic in his life that he hungered to have it in the afterlife, and thus, performed a ritual that killed him and turned him into a phantom that could possess those it deemed strong enough.”

“So this demon….” I began, though my words halted as my mind swam, “This demon is inside me?”  
Solas shook his head. “This demon becomes it’s host and slowly absorbs them, but the ancient mages found ways to protect against his influence.” He trailed off. “The beast shall implant his blood in the blood of a major artery, and in the eye. For this will infect with blood, and infect with sight… The mark was worn by all those who could afford to have it, and those who did were never possessed. Those who got it after being possessed would not have to worry about the demon taking over… for a time at least.”

“So I need to get a tattoo?” I asked, my finger absentmindedly rubbing against the line on my face.   
“Yes.” Solas stated. “I know you despise Vallaslin, but this is the only way to stop the spread of influence.”   
“I don’t know…” I muttered.

Solas sighed. “By now you will be feeling side-effects. Increased senses. Burning. Excessive anger?”  
I sighed. “Fine. Can you do it now?” He nodded and moved toward a crate behind a stack of books. Out of it he pulled a long needle and an empty glass vial. He set both on the table and pricked his finger, letting some of his blood drip and splash on the bottom, staining the glass ruby. 

“You’ll need to put some of your blood in.” He stated, holding his hand out for mine. I slowly placed my hand in his, letting him slit my finger as carefully as possible. My blood spilled faster into the vial than his, filling it to its halfway point. His magic poured over my bloody finger like water. sealing the cut and staunching the blood flow.  
“Where do we put the tattoo?” I asked blankly, rubbing my shoulders. 

“Over one of the wounds.” Solas answered matter-of-factly. I sighed and sat at the edge of the bed, rubbing at my wound.   
“Are you certain?” I asked, “Do you eve know how to do this?”  
“You insult my intelligence.” Solas muttered.

“Forgive me for being nervous for my well-being, because I’m becoming a demon and I have no right to be nervous about a permanent marking on my body that may or may not do it’s job. Least of all forget it’s being applied by someone rather new to me, whose abilities I’m not entirely certain of.” I snapped, my voice hot in my throat.   
“Of course.” Solas said quietly. “Lay back.”

I laid back on the bed and pulled my shirt up to expose my stomach. The wound was a horrid mark and an even worse reminder that sat blatantly on my skin. I closed my eyes and let my head rest.   
After all, this was going to hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> Her nickname, Alnifenen, means "She who runs with wolves." Her name, Vallas, means "writing."  
> Vun is actually short for U'vunlea which means "starlight."
> 
> Renan- speak  
> Atisha- stay or calm
> 
> More commands will be introduced! 
> 
> Andaran atish'an is a formal greeting.


End file.
